


Alphabet

by Caepio, Corvo (Duchess_Of_York)



Category: Ancient History RPF, Classical Greece and Rome History & Literature RPF, Julius Caesar - Shakespeare
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-05 07:34:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18824074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caepio/pseuds/Caepio, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duchess_Of_York/pseuds/Corvo
Summary: 26 unrelated short stories (100-150 words) based on letters of the alphabet.





	1. A is for Arrogance

**Arrogance. Arrogo. Arrogare.**

\--

“It doesn’t gain you any friends.”

“I’m not looking for friends.”

“Why not?”

Brutus stretches lazily and leans down, lips brushing against the corner of Antony’s mouth. “Who needs friends when you can _take_ what you want?”

Antony pulls away, and Brutus sits back, hands flat on Antony’s bare chest, “Don’t disagree. _That's Cicero's position…_ ” 

Antony glares, his hands on Brutus’ hips, grip just a little too strong.

“Besides…” Brutus murmurs, watching the change in Antony’s expression, “You’re just as arrogant as I am. 

“How do you figure?”

Brutus smiles, sharp and acquisitive, “How else did you acquire this _lovely_ house?”

Money.  
Power.  
Other people’s homes.

They both have a way of taking what they want, to hell with what anyone else thinks or says.


	2. B is for Boredom

"I'm bored."

"Too bad."

"You know what would make me feel better?"

"What?"

“You-” Antony shifted on the bed, turning to face him. He looked at Brutus with his cat-like green eyes. “Let’s fuck.” He smiled as Brutus’s cheeks turned bright red.

“No- We just did it last night, isn’t that enough for you?”

“C’mon… You’re all I can think about.”

“Really? I didn’t know you thought about anything.”

“Well, I do. I think a lot, especially about you-” Antony smirked and Brutus couldn’t help but roll his eyes. 

“I bet you say that to everyone.”

“Why? Is it working?”

“Maybe…” It was. Or it could have been that Brutus was simply bored, too.


	3. C is for Caught, Cassius, and Cliffhangers.

Cassius liked to visit Brutus late at night - so late that it was almost morning.  
This had never been a problem until, one day, after he’d been gone for several weeks, he showed up unannounced at dawn.

No one was awake to stop him. Cassius walked right into Brutus’ cubiculum-

-and found a _very_ naked Marcus Antonius asleep in Brutus’ bed.

Brutus was nowhere in sight. 

Cassius tried to exit quietly. He tried to leave without getting caught. But when he turned around, there was Brutus. A very nearly naked Brutus. Staring at him in something quickly approaching horror. 

And just when Cassius thought it couldn’t get any worse…

Antony woke up.


	4. D is for Drunk

“Heyyyy beautiful-”

“Antony? What are you doing? You know we’re not supposed to talk to each other at these parties! Not in front of everyone-” Brutus glanced around, relieved to see everyone in their own little worlds, not concerned in the least with what he was doing. Except for Cassius, who was sitting alone in the corner, occasionally eying him, but Cassius was always the exception. 

It was then that Brutus smelled the wine on Antony’s breath. “How much have you had to drink tonight?”

“I don’t remember, but probably lot-” Antony was now sitting with Brutus, sitting so close he was practically in the other man’s lap. “I love you, you know….”

Brutus shivered, no longer concerned with what everyone else was thinking. He always knew- or at least suspected- that Antony loved him, or at least liked him. But he never expected Antony would confess it so bluntly, and in such a public place. Brutus got up.

“Where’re you goin’?”

“I need more to drink.”


	5. E is for Enemies

“You’re the only one I trust.” Brutus said. “You know that?”

Very early morning, the end of October. He was walking with Antony in the foothills around Pangaion.

On overcast nights, when there was nobody to see, they’d meet there. An accidental encounter one night, a month ago, before the battles had begun, become a habit. 

They talked, sometimes. Usually they just walked, an insomniac and an early riser, both fond of the last shadows of the night.

“Why would you trust me?” Antony asked, glancing at Brutus. “You know I’m still going to kill you when the time comes.” 

Brutus smiled slightly, the lines of exhaustion, grief, and resolution fading for a moment. “When the time comes, _if I don’t get there first_. I know. I trust you to be my enemy. And you’ve never failed me.”


End file.
